


The Fields in Which They Roam

by Jotachinos



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Jean has a sore ass, M/M, Oh and Marco the adorable Titan, Titan!marco, he probably has a scenery fetish, his horse doesn't help that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1725179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jotachinos/pseuds/Jotachinos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During yet another mission, Jean had an unfortunate accident involving his Manoeuvre Gear and a Titan. Luckily, he managed to escape with just an injured arm. Thinking that he could escape via horse, he soon found himself in an... unusual situation</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fields in Which They Roam

The pounding of hooves shook Jean's bones. The screams of his fellow soldiers pained his ears. The sight of blood made him gag. Everything he experienced made him feel violently ill. But what was there to do? Run away and cry, or try to get used to it? Both were bad choices.

Usually Jean would vent out his feelings to his best friend: Marco. Of course, he couldn't do that now, which only added emotional pain to the physical pain he was feeling at that moment.

He ran into the nearest alleyway he could find before shoving himself into the corner, squeezing his legs in his arms and curling his body up into a ball, ducking his head and breathing heavily into the almost non-existent gap between his knees and chest.

Why, of all times, did his Manoeuvre Gear decide to break now? He knew that before he had begun the mission, he triple-checked everything to make sure it was all in working order, and suddenly, it stopped working?

To make his situation worse, he was also injured.

When he tried to escape a few 7 meter class Titans (including a 10 meter) one of them just managed to touch Jean. It wasn't able to grab him, but the Titan's overgrown and jagged nail sliced across his left arm, breaking the skin. The strong smell of iron made his nose want to collapse into his skull.

Jean looked up at sky, expecting a Titan to rear its horribly deformed head above him and scoop him up from his hidey hole.

"Is this it?" he said, "Am I just going to sit around and wait to die? Or am I going to at least try to run away?" Admitting that he was willing to run away made him feel like a coward and less of a soldier, but he'd prefer running away and trying to live rather than giving up and dying.

He carefully took off his jacket and removed a blade from his Manoeuvre Gear. He cut one sleeve off and wrapped it tightly around his arm to make a tourniquet, applying a painful amount of pressure to his open wound. Even though it did hurt, he had to do it in order to stop the bleeding.

After he patched himself up, he cut off and stuffed the Survey Corps emblem from his ruined jacket into his pocket (he discarded the actual jacket in the alleyway) before slowly sneaking his way past the constantly growing Titan hoard, hiding behind any object he could find, mainly broken horse carriages and huge boulders left behind by the colossal Titan's attack all those years ago.

It just goes to show how much the King was bothered by the state of his city, as well as its citizens.

After ducking, dodging, and sprinting his way past the Titans, he managed to whistle for his horse after a few painful attempts.

He may be alive, but he was still injured, and an injured man can't go far without a bit of help.

When his horse approached him, he felt a huge sense of relief rush through him. "Good girl,  _good_  girl." he cooed, stroking the slightly jittery horse's neck.  _Thanks for picking me up_ , he thought, looking her in her beautiful brown eyes with an all-too-real smile.

Before he got on his horse, he made sure to give her a reassuring pat above her tail as he whispered more words of gratitude.

Clambering on as quickly as he could, he flung the reins up before bringing them down as hard as he could; the sudden whip made his horse trot forward before speeding up into a gallop. Honestly, he was okay with horse riding, it's just the after effects that bothered him the most, such as having to put up with a sore, bruised backside for the next two or so days.

Looking around, trying to take his mind off of his bruising posterior, he was amazed by how vast the lands outside of the walls were.

Jean was completely awestruck by the sight, even though he had seen it once before during an expedition. The colours of the trees and grass; the thousands upon thousands of different flowers scattered across the ground; everything blew him away. Growing up inside of Wall Rose, he never saw anything more than the grass in his garden and maybe one or two flowers, not varying in colour.

But this... This was something he didn't mind taking a few minutes to admire, even though his life was on the line. This feeling was something that could not be explained; even Jean's mind couldn't comprehend it.

He was quickly brought back to reality by his horse.

The bumpy and bouncy ride was particularly bad today, which concerned Jean - she was never this nervous, even around the Titans.

“Hey girl, what's wrong?" he shouted, trying to make his voice heard over the overpowering sound of hooves pounding against the dirt along with the sound of the wind blasting past his ears.

In reply, she shook her head from side to side and suddenly ground to a halt, snorting and huffing nervously through her nose.

As Jean tried to climb off, she started running around in circles. He instantly sat back on the saddle as she threw her front half upwards. Frightened, Jean used his good arm to grab hold of his saddle to balance himself as he held onto his bad arm and pulled it close to his chest.

But, before he could get a proper grip, she started bucking her hind legs before raising her forelegs once more. She whinnied and neighed in a high pitch, showing that she was abnormally spooked. Jean cursed as she finally managed to buck him off completely, flinging his body into the air like a rag doll, resulting in him slamming head-first into a tree, knocking him out instantly.

A few moments later, he opened his eyes lazily.

Jean squinted as he sat up on his elbows, his eyes adjusting to the light, only to realise that he was inside of his mind. As he began to stand, the arm that was injured had completely healed, feeling as normal as ever.

Blinking a couple of times to fully regain the focus in his eyes, he saw that he was back in the barracks, back to the time when they first became a part of the 104th Trainee Division. He realised that he was lying on his mattress as the other trainees sat on theirs, talking with their bunk mates about which division they'd join if they graduated within the top ten.

Of course, Jean remembered when he wanted to join the Military Police just so he could be safe and live a comfortable life in the interior, and he remembered the conversation he had with Marco over it. He remembered how Marco claimed that he would find it an honour to work alongside the King and being giving the responsibility to protect him, but Jean didn't believe for a second that that was the reason.

When Jean and Marco graduated 6th and 7th in the top ten, he and Marco were as determined as ever to join the Military Police together.

That all changed a few days after the Titan clean-up.

His vision blurred momentarily, returning him to that day.

He saw the sight he never wanted to imagine ever again, let alone see with his own eyes: Marco's deformed corpse resting against the wooden wall surrounded by dried blood, suggesting that his death had been left unnoticed for days. The right half of his face and the right half of his torso had been bitten clean off. Both legs still remained, one bent up slightly and the other lay flat on the ground. His right (and only) arm sat on top of his bloodstained stomach. His eyes were still open, but only slightly, staring blankly at the house opposite; his chapped lips had curled up, exposing his remaining, stained teeth.

His once round and cheery face had been deformed and contorted hideously, almost beyond recognition. If it weren’t for his freckles, there would have been no way to identify Marco’s corpse, thus leaving him to decay on his own until he was nothing more than a mere stain on the floor.

Jean did nothing but stare for a second time, reliving the indescribable and excruciating pain he felt in that moment, holding back the urge to vomit.

Staring at his friend's corpse for a second time was more painful than the first, bringing tears to his stinging eyes that stayed fixated on the horror before him as he tried to release the screams trapped in his throat, as well as the vomit that was building up inside of him.

Once again, his vision blurred, bringing him out of his mind and back into the real world.

He blinked several times to adjust his eyes to the change in light. He must have been unconscious for a few hours – the sky had darkened slightly, the clouds were tinged with a dark orange hue and purple mist spread across the sky.

The first thing he did was bring a shaking hand to his throbbing head, rubbing it to ease the pain. Jean wasn't too surprised to see dried specs of blood on his fingers mixed in with the dirt that he scraped off from his head.  _Must've hit a couple of stones or something_ , he thought, leaning up on his knees to avoid sitting on his tender backside.  _Damn horse..._

Removing his Manoeuvre Gear, along with his straps, he made a mental note of what he would have to put up with until he found some way to get back into Wall Sina:

  *          Injured arm.
  *          Injured forehead.
  *          Injured backside.



After wiping his hands clean on his trousers, he took a long, hard look around, listening carefully for the slightest noise.

Nothing was particularly abnormal: the landscape was still vast and green, vibrant with thousands of mixed colours, trees were still scattered randomly around the plains, varying in shape and size.

The Titans were nowhere to be seen, which wasn't necessarily a good thing.

He couldn't hear a single thunder of breathing, he couldn't feel the ground shake with an earthquake-like tremor beneath his feet, nor could he see any evidence of Titan activity in the past few hours, even though the sun was still in the sky.

Jean's position in the Survey Corps meant that he had to not only kill the Titans, but he also had to help gather information about the Titans as well as surveying the land beyond the walls, so of what use was he as a soldier to Levi and Erwin if he couldn't even spot a Titan? Of course, he had been knocked out for God knows how long, but the fact that he woke up in the same place and not in a Titan's stomach proved to be even more suspicious.

It’s not like he was complaining.

He shuffled over to the nearest tree and pushed his good hand against the bark to help balance himself as he stood up on shaking legs. But, his legs weren't shaking. In fact, they felt perfectly fine. So, why was he wobbling around so much?

 _The hell is up with my legs? Why can't I keep my balance?_  he hissed mentally, stamping his feet on the ground. He tilted his head to one side questioningly when he noticed that his legs were fine, yet the ground still shook under his feet.

Raising his brow, he leant his side against the tree and blocked the light from his squinted eyes with his hand. His heart almost sank into his stomach when he figured out why the ground started to tremble.

The earthquake-like tremors were footsteps.

He cupped his dirty face in his hands and began to breathe heavily, realising that he was completely screwed: he was injured, his Manoeuvre Gear was kaput, and his horse was nowhere to be seen.

This was a moment for famous last words, but Jean couldn't be bothered with all that cliché shit. Instead, he let a high-pitched squeak replace his inspirational speech, as well as all the curses he could think of.

The ground shook as booming footsteps echoed through the woods he stood in, threatening to uproot all the "big-ass trees" (Eren stated that Levi had once called them this) with each bone-rattling step.

He knew that he couldn't escape now. Jean wouldn't be able to run away, not unless he wanted to be visited by a Titan. Well, either way he would die.

So, in what Jean thought would be his final moments, he sat down and gave up, wiping a single tear off of his cheek. Why was he crying? It's not so much the fact that he was going to die - they were being prepared for death when they first started training - Jean just didn't want to have the same death as Marco: being left unnoticed and dying alone for days on end. But, would being swallowed whole like Thomas be any better?

Before he could think about the best way to die, he suddenly felt a grip around him. Gigantic yet slender fingers wrapped themselves around Jean's torso. The deep, nasally sound of heavy breathing shook his eardrums violently as a long gust of air blew through his hair and clothes with a gale-like force.

He couldn't do anything other than squeeze his eyes shut, scream out and thrash his good arm and legs about, trying to free himself, even though it would be to no avail.

After a few seconds (which seemed to drag on for hours, although that was obviously not the case) Jean had exhausted himself. His legs dangled lifelessly and his head and chest rested on the Titan's index finger. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, preparing himself for the end.

He stayed in that position and waited for the hand to close around him, crushing his body like a bug under a boot.

But it didn't.

The fingers around him weren't squeezing with the intention to kill, but, they were just holding him. The hold wasn't even tight or constricting: it was gentle, like some kind of weird hug – Jean thought it was like that, anyway.

Jean's head was facing away from the Titan - he couldn't bring himself to turn around, even more so when he felt the beast move closer to him. Jean opened one eye and looked at the finger he was resting on. It wasn't horribly deformed like some, rather, it was like a human's, just gigantic. He put his left hand on the finger wrapped around him. His entire left arm was roughly the same size as its finger.

He suddenly felt the hand he was in turn slowly, and he was now facing the Titan.

"Shit," he hissed, looking at its feet, "guess this is it..."

But nothing happened. Actually, what  _was_  happening? Was the Titan taunting him? Playing with its food until he got bored?

When he looked up, he expected to see a face similar to the one that had killed his comrades: deformed, mortifying, nightmarish smile, eyes full of bloodlust, but that wasn't what he saw.

The face was slightly fuller, rather than decayed with the skin tightly pulled over the bones of its skull, looking like it would tear at the slightest movement. The hair was slightly overgrown and dishevelled with medium-length black bangs that hung over each side of its forehead. Two longish and pointed ears stuck out through its hair. Beneath its long, thin eyebrows were big, bright, brown eyes, not tiny and dull like the other Titans.

And, unlike the other Titans, its mouth was shut, and although the skin on either side of its jaw was slightly ripped, it wasn't menacing or terrifying, especially with the soft smile on its lips that was being flashed at Jean as he continued to stare, mesmerised by this surprisingly non-hostile Titan.

The last thing he noticed was the scattering of freckles on the Titan's cheeks.

This Titan, it looked so familiar... Incredibly familiar.

Upon closer inspection, he saw how rounded its features were, and its face held a creepily uncanny resemblance to that particular someone he had lost many months ago.

Studying the face closer, it all became too much for Jean, and he started to think the craziest thing he had ever thought. 

It couldn’t be... Could it?

 _No_ , Jean thought,  _no,_   _that's impossible! There's no way: I saw him dead, so it can't be!_ Looking into the Titan's eyes, he thought that he could at least try; he had to try, even though he didn't believe it was true.

The words that he managed to choke out made him sound insane.

"M... Marco...?"

The Titan stared at Jean in silence for a moment, blinking and smiling dumbly. Jean tried once more, he just had to.

"Marco... is, is that you? C-can you hear me?" he asked, putting both of his hands on the Titan's finger, still wrapped around his body, as he looked the beast right in its eyes, almost pleading for an answer.

The Titan's smile widened before he gave one nod. That single nod made Jean's heart skip a beat and his stomach felt like it was turning in on itself with an unadulterated feeling of pure and intense euphoria.

Marco was alive.

He couldn't believe it. He didn't understand why, but there was no way that he'd question it and risk jinxing it.

Marco was alive – a Titan, but alive.

Jean was not at all bothered that his friend had become the thing he feared, because this was Marco: he couldn't possibly be like those ravenous and blood thirsty Titans, it's not in his nature. If his nature had in fact changed, Jean would have been dead a long time ago, there was no doubt about it.

He finally had the chance to talk to his best friend again.

"I... I missed you, Marco." A smile returned to his face, albeit sad, but a smile nonetheless. Marco opened his hand so that Jean could stand. He moved Jean closer to his face, nudging Jean's stomach with the tip of his nose, which he noticed it still had those little marks on it.

Jean put his hand on one of Marco's nostrils and rested his forehead on his nose, whispering "I'm sorry" and "I missed you" over and over as he started to tear up.

He had to grit his teeth to stop himself weeping like a baby.

Marco took in a deep breath before shutting his eyes. He gently rubbed Jean's back with one finger.

"I'm sorry, Marco. I really, really am. I couldn't protect you; I couldn't be a leader like you said I was cut out to be; I couldn't do this mission right. I..." he trailed off when he looked up. The beast was scrunching its eyebrows together as if it was in deep thought, pulling a weird face to match.

"...Shh..."

Jean looked up when the sudden, deep hiss came from Marco, who for all that time had remained silent. "You... you can understand me? Can you, y'know, talk?"

"Ssch... haah...?" Marco’s words were strained as he forced himself to attempt to speak.

Jean smirked. "Heh, I guess I'll take that as a no." He reached behind him to pat the finger that was still rubbing and pushing his back, "I'm sure we'll figure it out some way, right? I mean, how hard can it be?"

Marco cocked his head and shrugged slowly. It seems as if he could only communicate through his actions, rather than speaking. But it made sense: who's ever heard of a talking Titan?

Their reunion was quickly interrupted by yet another flurry of booming footsteps and thundering roars.

"Uh, Marco... You heard that as well, right?" He moved to the side to look over Marco's shoulder.

Marco turned his head to face the direction of the oncoming Titans before giving Jean a forlorn look.

"Shit. What the hell are we gonna do?" Jean asked, panicked, knowing that Marco was as terrified as he was. Marco shrugged again, looking at the floor like a child being scalded for its wrong-doings. He then gave Jean another concerned look, which in no way reassured him – having a Titan so intimidated by its own kind was in no way helpful.

Marco suddenly jolted forward. Jean cursed under his breath as he stumbled back, landing painfully on his backside. Marco furrowed his brow and looked at Jean, opening his mouth and squinting his eyes. Before Jean could ask what was wrong, Marco hissed deeply through gritted teeth, and then he started to run forward, closing his hand around Jean's body to protect him from the oncoming Titans.

When Marco brought his other hand over to cover Jean, he curled up under Marco's fingers, half expecting to be thrown up and down violently with each running step Marco took, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that he wasn't thrown or bounced around at all. The only thing that bothered him was how tightly he was being held, but he guessed that Marco didn't know his own strength.

He was just glad that he wasn't pressing against his arm – Marco didn't know Jean was injured.

Honestly, Jean always knew that one day he would end up in a Titan's hand, but never in his wildest dreams did he think that he'd live to tell the tale.

And never did he ever imagine that it would be Marco who picked him up.

Curled up in Marco's hand was a surreal experience to say the least, but it's not like Jean thought it was necessarily a bad thing.

The warmth being radiated off of him was unbelievable, yet oddly comforting; soothing, in some respect.

The darkness made him feel as if he were back in the barracks, lying on his bunk with the blanket thrown over his head, except this was a Titan, and they were running from other Titans, not relaxing.

Jean could hear the roaring of the hostile Titans growing more distant; he could hear Marco's lungs fill with air as he continued his shaky and monotone breathing; he could feel Marco’s pulse throbbing through his palm with slow yet powerful beats.

The blood pulsating through his veins moved Jean's head gently as they both calmed down. Marco slowly opened his hand to check to see if Jean was okay, cocking his head and looking worryingly at him, to which Jean gave a thumbs-up to reassure Marco that he was fine.

Hot and a little sweaty, but fine (not including his arm, which still hurt like hell).

Marco grinned - he understood gestures - and raised his hand above his head, letting Jean fall down and land safely, Marco’s hair cushioning the fall.

Jean gritted his teeth when he landed on his healing backside, which still hurt slightly. He opened his eyes (which he shut when he fell down to help with the pain, somehow) to see a mass of black, dishevelled hair underneath him.

"You've grown your hair out, I see," Jean joked, patting Marco's head. Marco brought his hand to the back of his neck a rubbed it, giving a quick shrug and a breathy laugh through his nose. "It's not bad." Jean gently grabbed a handful of Marco's hair and fiddled with it - it felt strangely soft for a Titan, rather than being wiry and greasy like he expected.

Marco looked forward and grinned, finding it funny how Jean was suddenly so fascinated by his hair.

Jean looked up from his hand, absentmindedly combing his fingers through Marco's hair, and almost choked in amazement at the view he was now seeing.

He looked out to see a land full of glorious and captivating colours that spread out as far as the eye could see; the clusters of trees that were randomly dotted around the clearing shrunk to the size of hedges, gently swaying back and forth in the breeze; the horizon rippled with the heat radiating from the ground, creating dancing patterns that could be seen from miles away.

The sky was tinted with an orange and purple hue as the twilight began to quickly set in.

"Whoa... It's really... beautiful..." Jean was almost too amazed to talk, staring at the breathtaking scenery and letting Marco's hair slip from his hand.

Marco let out a breathy sigh before slowly sitting down, making sure to keep his head up-right so that Jean wouldn't fall off. He carefully picked Jean up off of his head and moved him to his shoulder before leaning back on both his hands, looking up at the mauve night sky, searching for any constellation he could recognise within the star-filled sky.

Every star had its own unique place, littering the sky beautifully and shining down on the dark world below. The rays of light bounced off of the trees and threw down shadows that sat perfectly on the grass.

A cool breeze blew past the pair. Although Marco was completely content, Jean shivered, rubbing his arms and wishing that he had kept his jacket. "Even though it's summer, it's still fucking freezing at night."

"Mmm..." Marco hummed, shrugging the shoulder that Jean wasn't sitting on.

"How are you not cold, Marco?" he asked, shivering again as another gust of wind blew past him.

"Schh... I... aahm...?" Marco, still looking at the sky, mumbled in a deep tone. His incoherent attempts at speech made Jean smile, finding the silly expressions that Marco pulled to be, in the simplest way he could possibly put it, cute.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting you can't speak. Well, at least you're trying, huh," Jean smirked, "I guess I'm better than you at  _something_..."

Marco turned his head and faced Jean, smiling dumbly with eyebrows raised in a cocky fashion. Jean patted Marco's freckled cheek, and he noticed how much heat his skin was radiating. "Whoa, you're pretty hot, you know? Is that why you're not cold?" Marco slowly nodded, rubbing his neck and opening his mouth. A low and loud yawn quietly came from his open mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut. His eyes opened again, looking sleepily at Jean through the slits of his eyelids.

"Marco, are you okay? What's up with you?"

His smile began to fall as he yawned once more, his arms began to weaken until they could no longer support his weight, and he fell on his back with a thud that shook the ground lightly.

"Shit!" Jean tumbled forward and landed on Marco's chest, a hand managed to catch him before he could roll off of his chest to drop a good few feet onto the dirt below. He rubbed his arm and noticed that his temporary tourniquet was no longer there. That's probably why Marco has no idea that Jean was actually injured.

"B-beee... nngh... cuur... ah..." Marco grumbled lazily, picking Jean up between his index finger and thumb and placed him on his forehead before he crossed his arms underneath his head. The night's sky didn't offer the light he needed to keep his energy up, explaining his sudden drowsiness.

Jean only realised how tired he was himself when he yawned along with Marco.

He was going to jump down and sleep on the floor, but the perfect amount of warmth radiating from Marco's forehead and the softness of his hair were all too inviting to miss, and it was a hell of a lot more comforting than the thought of sleeping on the dirt as the wind froze him.

Marco's breathing was slow and deep; his chest rose and fell, rocking his head back and forth. Jean rolled some of Marco's hair up and rested his head on the makeshift pillow, wrapping his arms around himself, the heat coiling around his body, "Good night, Marco."

Jean couldn't see it, but Marco fell asleep smiling.

 

* * *

 

He awoke the next morning, lying on the grass beside his Titan friend. He stretched out wide and cracked his spine, yawning quietly and rubbing his eyes. He had to take a moment to wallow in the feeling of a good and proper night's sleep, rather than waking up as tired as he felt when he went to bed.

He sat up and looked to his side and saw Marco's Titan cast a shadow over him that rose and sunk with every breath he took. He couldn't help but stare at the enormous body next to him, still blown away at the sight of such a huge and feared beast that acted so calm, so content, so Marco.

It still amazed him that, even as a Titan, he still looked the same, including his hair, although it was slightly overgrown – his long bangs hung over each side of his forehead in its usual dorky fashion. Marco still had a kind look in his eyes; he still had his dumb smile; he still seemed to be looking out for Jean, which warmed his heart, knowing that such a supposedly hostile creature could be this caring and considerate.

Marco shifted, humming loudly as his eyelids slowly opened into slits, looking at Jean with a half-awake grin growing on his face. "Mornin', sleepy." said Jean, patting Marco's shoulder. Marco grinned, showing off his teeth as his smile grew. "Jeez, you're too dorky for a Titan, you know that?"

"Jschee- ahh...?"

"What was that, big guy?"

Marco quickly sat up and gritted his teeth, squinting his eyes and furrowing his brow.

"Jee- haa?"

"A-are you trying to say something?"

"Mmm...?"

"Look, uh, try this," Jean pointed to his mouth, pulling a face that Marco mimicked, "Jeeeaahh- haah...?" He pulled a slightly goofy looking face as he tried to say Jean's name; his gigantic tongue rolled out of his mouth with each attempt. Jean shook his head and stood up, laughing. His laughing stopped shortly after.

He had completely forgotten that he had gone missing during action. Were the others looking for him? Had they declared him K.I.A.? He didn't even have a plan: he had assumed that he'd die when his horse ran away.

Not to mention the untreated injury on his arm.

He absentmindedly grabbed his arm, and Marco looked at him curiously, "So... any idea what the plan is?"

Marco said nothing as he continued to look at Jean's hand, "Hm...? Ahh-arrh...?"

" _Arrh_? Oh, do you mean arm?" Marco nodded, and Jean looked at his arm with a grimace, "This happened before I met you. Not much I can do, though.”

"...Jeeaann...?"

"Are you trying to say my name? Go on, give it another go!" Jean encouraged. 

"Jeeaaaannn..."

"Heh, there you go! You can say something!" Jean cheered, punching Marco's arm. Marco did think about punching Jean back playfully, but he settled for something that wouldn't kill his friend: he pushed Jean over with his index finger, laughing as Jean rolled across the floor.

"H-hey! Come on now...” Jean stood up and brushed himself down, “You may be a little bit bigger..." he took a moment to look at Marco, "Okay,  _a lot_  bigger, but that doesn't mean you can pick on an itty-bitty human like me! It's bad enough that you were bigger than me when you were human."

Jean pouted, annoyed, when he saw that Marco's laughing didn't cease.

"Are you  _really_  a Titan?"

Marco shrugged, wiping his eyes and catching his breath. Jean then asked how tall Marco was, guessing he was around 15 meters. Marco shrugged in response, running his hands up and down his legs in thought – it seemed like Marco was as clueless as Jean was about his new body.

It was all fun and games now, but the serious issue of what their plan of action was still had to be talked through.

But, did they really have to do... anything?

 _When will I get to see him again?_ Jean sat up and held his arm, looking at Marco, who was smiling up at the sky,  _As soon as I get back, Levi will probably beat my ass for getting into trouble, and who knows what reputation this will give me?_ He sighed and rubbed his forehead, deep in thought. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving Marco as soon he was reunited with him.  _If returning means that I'll be put to shame,_ and  _I have to abandon Marco, then maybe... staying here isn't all that bad an idea. At least until I figure out what we can actually do..._

Jean was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Marco's face was right next to him, his bright eyes that were filled with worry studied the arm that Jean was holding, his eyebrows scrunched together and his expression was a mixture of unease and confusion.

Marco breathed heavily out of his nose, blowing through Jean's hair. That was supposed to be a way to show concern, Jean understood that.

"...You're still worried about it, huh?"

"Jeaan... arhh...?"

"There's nothing we can do. You know that, right?"

Marco looked down in shame, knowing that he couldn't do anything to help his friend. Well, it's not like Titans were known for their caring or healing abilities.

All Marco knew about healing was that Titans had the ability to regenerate amputated limbs, but he decided against cutting off Jean's arm.

Being a Titan, his memory was very limited, but he was not sure why. He had been in this form for so long, he had almost completely forgotten who he was, who he had been, why he was like this, and over the period of time he had been this way, his memory started to fade to only very, very basic things, such as breathing, moving, eating and sleeping.

Although his memory had deteriorated, there was something that stuck in the back of his mind that just wouldn't go. He didn't know what it was, but it felt like a lump that wouldn't disappear, yet it grew every time he thought about it.

Also, if he had forgotten so much, then, why did he remember Jean?

Why did he not attack and kill him like the other Titans certainly would have done?

Marco was one of them to the very last detail, but, why had he not killed Jean?

Marco took a moment to think back to every human and Titan he could remember seeing, and then asking himself why he didn't kill them. Why didn't he? He ran away from them all, as far as his memory could tell, but why was Jean different?

Maybe... Marco hadn't forgotten everything.

"Hey, Marco? Can I ask you something?" Jean had noticed a distant and thoughtful look growing in Marco's eyes, as well as something Jean couldn't quite put his finger on. For some reason, it made the question he was about to ask seem... harder to put into words.

Marco blinked several times before rubbing his eyes, coming back to his senses as his human friend shuffled closer to him, looking up to meet the Titan's gaze, "I, uh, don't know how to say this without, y'know, hurting you or something..." Jean took a deep breath to calm his erratic nerves, "Marco... I am allowed to ask you anything, aren't I?" Marco grunted in response, looking at Jean with a light smile and a kind look in his big, soft eyes.

That smile made Jean's heart sink as he asked: "Marco... That day, when I, when you were lying there, and- uh, I-I mean, you were... When you were dead, you... your body was..." Jean stopped there, his voice croaked painfully as he thought back to the day he found Marco lying there, motionless, frozen in an eternal sleep.

He found it almost too hard to continue, but he had to get it out – it was now or never.

"H-how... are you a Titan?"

Marco's smile dropped instantly; his brows furrowed and his eyes widened. Marco turned his head away and looked at Jean out of the corner of his eye, watching his best friend's body tremble as his words coming out as breathy, tear-filled chokes.

Marco held his hand out to the side, refusing to turn his head.

Jean looked at the hand, then at the back of Marco's head, then back to the hand. Jean wasn't getting the hint, Marco knew that, so he twitched his index finger and motioned Jean forward.

"Jean... 's oh-kay..."

That wasn't what Jean wanted to hear.

He gritted his teeth and uttered something under his breath, walking over to Marco's hand and grabbing his index finger, squeezing it with all his might and sitting down.

Marco turned his head when he heard Jean hiccup against his finger, watching the muscles in his back tense through his shirt as his squeezing continued.

"Marco, I'm sorry. This is... The way you are is my fault... I, I didn't even know when you... or how you... You... Fuck, Marco, I'm so sorry."

"Jean... 's okay..."

"Marco, don't say that, please. It's not okay, is it? You know that it's my fault... It's all my fault..."

"Mmm... J-Jean... I..."

"Why didn't I die, Marco? Why did it have to be you? I... I'd rather be the one who died..."

Jean's tears rolled down Marco's finger, collecting into a tiny pool in his palm as Jean continued to blame himself.

Right now, he had never realised how worthless he thought he was. He never thought deeply about how much of a waste of space he was. Jean's throat burned as he thought back to the day he found Marco, his eyes began to sting and his breathing shook.

_I could've done more. I fucking know I could've done more, and if I did, Marco would still be here, alive, and we'd be living safely in the interior, together, and everything would have been fine. But no, because of me, because of me, he's not here, not with me... I should've died that day. I always sat back and watched my friends die, I could've helped, but I didn't._

_I'm so fucking useless._

_Marco, you're a better soldier than I’ll ever be. You even stopped that one guy from killing himself, for God's sake! And what did I do? Nothing! I'm responsible for the deaths of everyone... No fucking wonder I'm like this now, injured and lost. I'm pathetic. Marco should just do the whole world a favour and kill me now._

Jean continued to sob as Marco stared, unsure of what to do. All he wanted to do was hug Jean, to hold him close and embrace him, whispering in his ear and rubbing his back, telling him that everything would be okay.

But he couldn't.

"...'s g-go..."

Jean sniffed loudly and shook his head, "Marco, can you do something for me?"

"Nngh... Je-an...?"

"Please, Marco, just listen: we need to hide. Can you... take us into the forest? We're too exposed out here, and I don't want  _them_  to find you."

"Mmhm..." Marco's pitch had lowered greatly, making his replies sound softer. He nodded and remained silent as he started to stand up and slowly walk into the forest, taking them further away from the walls.

Jean sighed, his grip on Marco's finger loosened as his arm began to throb. He clutched it tightly, rubbing it from time to time.

Looking out behind him, he saw a blurred outline of his home falling below the horizon – how far away were they?

_Home..._

 

* * *

 

The journey to the forest took quite a while. Luckily, Marco wasn't ambushed by a single Titan on the way.

When they had entered the forest, even Marco felt much, much smaller as he looked up to see that the trees seemed to never end; he thought they could be big enough to lead straight into the heavens.

Each tree did their own part in making the duo’s journey even harder by blocking out any source of light that attempted to penetrate the dense wall of leaves.

Marco found it hard to manoeuvre his way through the trees with his new size – each tree stood at least 30 meters tall from what he could see, towering over the duo and casting enormous shadows over them.

On the way to the forest, Jean had tired himself out, and he was now sleeping quietly in Marco's palm. Marco looked at the human in his hand and sighed sadly, looking at his face: his eyes were red and slightly puffy; his nose was tinted pink, as were his cheeks. Marco tried to keep his hand as stable as he could so that he would not wake Jean, watching him throughout the trip to make sure that he was still sleeping soundly. Marco didn't need to worry about Jean waking up – he had always been a deep sleeper.

Marco looked for the lowest tree he could find and pulled down several branches to allow the sun to shine through and hit the forest floor, he sun's position in the sky indicating that it was noon, which worked in his favour.

He looked down at the man sleeping soundly in his palm, smiling as he admired him as he slept. To think that Jean, his best friend, could actually be so calm like this made Marco smile, remembering how he would always be so energetic.

Then he noticed his arm.

Marco knew that he couldn't do anything to help, so instead he just looked and whimpered, carefully setting Jean down on the nearest and widest branch he could find.

"...J-Jean... h-nn... ho-hold- nn..."

Marco had been working as hard as he could to try to improve his speech, and he was quite surprised at how quickly he had managed to be able to form words. He couldn't have done it if Jean hadn't have shown him.

Jean continued to sleep as Marco paced back and forth, desperately trying to think of a way in which to fix Jean's arm, seeing as it had been left untreated for what seemed to be an incredibly long time (Marco had no idea how long Jean was on his own for, so he feared the worst).

He studied the arm closely, and he noticed that the sleeve was actually ripped in the middle, but he couldn't quite see enough of the arm to be able to assess the damage. Ever so carefully, Marco ripped the sleeve until it exposed more of his arm. He accidentally pulled a little too hard, ripping off the entire sleeve.

Panicked, Marco looked around before hastily throwing the fabric into the trees, checking to see if Jean had stirred, which he hadn't, and Marco sighed in relief, scratching his scalp and wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

Now he could see the injury on his arm, which was nowhere near as bad as Jean had made it out to be: a mere, thin, healing horizontal scar ran across his arm, blood had dried around it but the injury showed no sign of infection, but there was no doubt in Marco's mind that he knew it had hurt.

A lot.

He had succeeded in checking the wound, but now what? What could he possibly do now? Jean seemed to be doing just fine, as did his arm (even thought it was dirty), so there was nothing he could do.

Or, was there?

Looking around, Marco spotted a figure rustling in the bushes next to him, and curiosity got the better of him. The bush shook gently until something crawled out from under it: a small beast with long, white ears and brown fur, tiny paws and big, powerful-looking hind legs. Marco had never seen such a small...  _thing_  before, nor one that looked this defenceless, out in the open on its own.

It looked so fragile.

Marco bent down on one knee and studied the thing closer, the beast's nose twitched and its whiskers perked with each sniff. Marco moved his face closer to it, almost falling over in surprise as it squeaked loudly, over and over again. He panicked. Had he scared it?

He sat back and watched it hop around, squeaking incessantly, until another one of these weird beasts bounced over to it. This one's fur was grey in colour, and it too had long ears, matching the other beast.

Marco watched in amazement as the two greeted each other, hopping around one another and communicating through squeaks, varying in pitch. He didn't once take his eyes off of the display in front of him.

He watched on as the white beast's movements were a little more sluggish compared to its partner's, who moved at the speed of light. Marco wanted to wake Jean so he could also watch, but he didn't want to wake him. He also didn't want to miss out on a single moment.

The white beast stopped moving all together.

The grey-furred beast moved over to the white one, twitching its nose and inspecting its friend’s body. It stopped sniffing around its hind leg.

Marco cocked his head curiously as he watched the grey beast moved closer to the leg, noticing that it was bleeding, and a pang of guilt swept over Marco, feeling sorry for such a small creature having an injury that seemed so serious. The guilt soon turned into confusion when the grey beast began to lick at the wound, cleaning up the blood around it as well as what was coming from the injury. And, soon enough, the beasts ran off into the forest together, leaving Marco to sit there in amazement. How could that heal such a horrific looking injury so quickly? It made Marco wonder, if it worked for those odd creatures, then would it work on Jean?

He shook his head and grinned – it was a stupid idea.

He looked back at Jean, still sleeping, and thought about it. It wouldn't hurt to try, would it? But, Jean wasn't one of those things, was he? He was still human. Also, what would happen if Marco did go along with it and Jean woke up? Would he think that Marco was trying to eat him and try to run away? No, no Jean would never think that.

Marco got off of his knee and stood up, looking at Jean's sleeveless arm. He sighed and stood beside the branch on which he laid on, looking closely at the scar on his arm.

Marco breathed heavily out of his nose, "Jean... J-Jean...?"

He thought that it would be best to wake Jean up, but that would prove to be difficult.

"Jean...?"

Jean grumbled and turned over. It was quite clear that he would not be waking up.

Picking Jean's sleeping body up carefully, Marco laid him flat on his palm, sitting him up and resting his back against his closed fingers. Marco pulled Jean's arm up carefully, trying to not aggravate his injury in any way, and moved his face closer, sticking his tongue out and dragging it across his entire arm. It only took a single lick to clean up what the wound had left behind.

Marco grimaced at the taste of iron, but he looked at the arm proudly: it was completely clean. At least he didn't have to worry about the scar getting infected.

When Marco put Jean back down on the branch, he was going to sit next to him and wait until he woke up, but he didn't. Instead, he looked around the forest nervously.

His right ear began to twitch, again, and again, and again. It twitched incessantly - Marco couldn't control it.

And then, he heard it.

He finally realised what was causing him to worry, why he was looking around anxiously, why his ear wouldn't rest: a Titan was nearby, but it was no ordinary Titan. This one Titan's roar was painfully familiar. This Titan...

Marco furrowed his brow and hissed deeply before looking at Jean, his expression instantly changed to that of dejection.

He would have to leave Jean on his own for a second time.

"Jean... S-s... so-rry..." he sputtered quietly, glancing behind him as he walked in the opposite direction. He looked back at Jean and a smile spread across his freckled face, and he convinced himself that everything would be alright.

But he had done that the last time he left.

 

* * *

 

A low growling of his stomach woke Jean from his slumber. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping for, but the fact that the sun was still high in the sky suggested that it was still daytime, so it must have only been a short while.

Jean was too tired to want to wake up, so he shut his eyes once more, but his stomach refused to let him sleep, grumbling loudly.

With much effort, he finally forced himself to sit up, stretching out and scratching his stomach. God, he was hungry.

Jean rubbed the sleep off of his eyes, as well as the drool on his face, and swallowed dryly, "Afternoon, Marco. Wha's the time?"

Slightly agitated with the lack of response, Jean rolled his eyes and repeated his question, raising his voice to show his irritation. And, once again, no reply.

"Hey, Marco, are you even listeni-"

His sentence cut itself off.

His eyes slowly opened as wide as was humanly possible.

He searched the shadows which the trees cast frantically.

An eerie silence spread across the forest, not a single rustle could be heard, not even the sound of his own breathing. It was just... dead silence.

Jean shot to his feet with such speed he felt momentarily faint, but anxiety soon took over. He quickly noticed a peculiar feeling had spread across his left side, and it wasn't pain, just something peculiar.

He glanced at the sleeveless, drool-covered mess in obvious curiosity. Jean didn't even know what to say about it, so instead he just looked in disgust at it - there was no way that he'd attempt to clean whatever the hell this cold and sticky substance was that was coating his left arm - and only he could only think:  _what the fuck is this? What even happened to my sleeve? And, and what is this?!_

Jean shook his arm and rubbed it against his shirt, gagging, and he soon realised that this was not just water, not even colourless sap from the tree, but it was saliva.

 _Marco, you've got some explaining to do_ , he thought angrily, looking around into the emptiness of the forest surrounding him with a scowl on his face as he continued to wipe his arm clean.

He didn't stay mad for long. Not when he couldn't find any trace of Marco whatsoever.

Panic began to set in, fear overpowering his anger in the blink of an eye.

"Marco? You're still here, right?" he yelled, walking further down the branch, "If you're hiding somewhere, you can come out." Reaching the end of the branch, he strained his ears, desperately trying to hear something, anything, just a tiny noise to let Jean know that Marco was still around, still... alive.

"Seriously, Marco, if this is some kind of joke, it's not funny,"

If only it were a joke.

A single bead of sweat ran down Jean's cheek as he continued to call Marco's name in complete panic; his mind and heart raced painfully.

_This can't happen again. Not for a second time._

"Please, please... Just, come out... I-I don't want to lose you again..."

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 will be up when I actually start writing it.
> 
> (P.S. My Tumblr is tachibana-bodt. So, yeah.)


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